When I said, I think it's going to be a good one, what I actually meant was.... OH NOOOO, I'VE GOT SHIN SPLINTS!!! I woke up on Tuesday and the calf pain in my left leg had infected its twin. After a small Lance Corporal Jones-style panic, I decided to let rest do its thing. Plus I went for a massage in Chinatown. In usual fashion, it was absolute agony. That makes me very happy because anything that painful can only be doing some good. So, I'm aiming for another couple of days of feet-up, then I'll take my legs for a test drive. In the meantime, my physio friend has given me some extra exercises to do on my therapeutic roller. It's seen a lot of action this week. I do hope it's hardier than me.
No balls in the face this week, but plenty of arses unfortunately. Today's class was a bit too busy for my liking. I'm not massively confident on the Swiss exercise ball, which means one false move and you're careering into your neighbour's space. Consequently, I spent much of the hour desperately trying to find a safe haven. At one point, I felt I was just in the way and contemplated leaving early. I feel much the same at parties. However, unlike at parties, I didn't reach for the tequila; instead I focused on tucking in my pelvic floor, engaging my abs and dropping my shoulders. Afterwards I was pleased I had persevered because my core felt much stronger and my tum was nearly inverted. Or at least it was until I got home and embarked upon a Spanish omelette fiesta. I'm now letting my lunch go down before I have a bath. You're supposed to wait an hour, aren't you? Or is that just swimming? Either way, a great start to the training week. I think it's going to be a good one.
Three raised eyebrows, two nods and a wave. There's nothing like acknowledgement from your fellow runners to feed your enthusiasm.
Today I met some very friendly people on a gentle potter to Hampstead and back. After the heady heights of yesterday's PB, I wanted to stretch my legs. And, more importantly, stretch out my left calf. It's just started playing up. I'm doing some post-run rollering to relieve the pain, but I intend to have a hot bath with epsom salts, too. I am very much not at home to Mr Calf-Strain.
Thinking about it, I may have been cursed by the man who came to fix the phone last Monday. He warned that if I had any injuries, my marathon training would ensure they'd be magnified tenfold. I grandly told him I was injury-free and planned to stay that way. Who's foolish now? Pride and falls etc....
Anyway, phone engineer warlocks aside, it's been another excellent week and this seems a good time for the Sunday review: what my marathon training schedule says I should be doing versus what I've actually done:
Monday:Core conditioning, yoga or Pilates - Hooray! I did an hour's Core Stability at the local leisure centre. Tick.
Tuesday:Recovery run 45 minutes - Didn't actually manage anything as I was really aching from all that core training on Monday.
Wednesday:5 x 5 mis @ threshold off 2 min jog recovery - 10.2 mile long run. A threshold run in terms of distance, if not speed.
Thursday:45 mins recovery run or cross training + core conditioning - Recovery sitting as I tried to get over yesterday's long run.
Friday:Rest - Rest day achieved. Tick.
Saturday:2 x 10 mins continuous hill reps. 2 min jog recovery - 5k/3.1 mile parkrun. This included two longish hill climbs. And I got a PB. Did I mention that?
Sunday:Long run 105 mins - Having completed my long run on Wednesday, today I did a recovery run of 40 minutes.
Once again I've managed to stick to the week's marathon schedule like glue. Okay it might not all be in the right order, or the right thing, or have anything to do with the itinerary, but I've found a little imagination can take you a very long way. And I only need it to take me 26.2 miles.
(Stats for today's run: 4.34 miles; 43.09 minutes; 9.56 minute/mile.)
Delighted to report that today was a PB day! Hoorah. All that resting and eating really paid off. I plan to do a lot more of both to ensure marathon success.
(Stats: 3.1 miles; 26.30 minutes (shaving a mighty 14 seconds off my previous best); 8.32 minute/mile.)
(Pic: You were right, Mum. It really is the most important meal of the day.)
Since the 10-miler on Wednesday, I've been feeling weary. I chatted about it with a marathon-running friend and he said it was just my body getting used to the longer distances. I decided not to fight it and took two rest days this week. I love how doing nothing is now an 'active choice' because I call it a rest day. I also actively chose to go on a 24-hour eat-a-thon: porridge with bananas, scrambled eggs and mushrooms on toast, spaghetti with garlic and chilli oil, a spinach and ricotta pastry, one bar of Toblerone, a large bag of Kettle Chips and a trifle. I'm hoping to turn these calories into a medal-winning performance at today's parkrun. Fingers crossed my P.E. kit still fits.
So I'm running around Regent's Park and this man runs past me. Immediately, I'm transported back to 1983/84, to my school nativity play where the stage was in the local church. I'm the 'messenger' - a vital role - and have to run up to Herod and say: "Hail lord, hail lord, hail lord most in might, into the land there comes this night three kings...." "Three kings, messenger, come thou to me. What is their errand in this country?" I could go on. But not for very long. It was only a small part. Anyway, it all came flooding back the instant this guy wafted under my nose. In retrospect, I think he must have smelled of candles and damp cushions. If so, I highly recommend a change of aftershave.
This occurred at mile four of a ten-mile run. I didn't set out to run ten miles. I set out to run for 105 minutes: this week's 'long run' as defined by my marathon training schedule. Very soon after heading off, I decided to ignore the time and just sightsee my way around London. I went everywhere: Carnaby Street; Piccadilly Circus; St James' Park (I got a bit lost here); Westminster Abbey; the South Bank and Chinatown, where I finished. The intention was to have a massage, but when I stopped I found I had a second-degree burn on my shoulder. I was, once again, the victim of rucksack chafing. I got the tube home instead, ate a pasty and had a bath (where I enjoyed more burning from the chafing.)
Not including half-marathons, this is the farthest I've ever run. And weeping burning sores aside, I feel okay. I'm going to spend tonight looking up interesting sights on the course route for Brighton. Distraction has to be the best training technique ever.
(Stats: 10.2 miles; 2 hours 1 minute 56 seconds; 11.53 minute/mile - so it's not going to break any records, but I think I could maintain this pace. If you can call it a pace.)
I went to a core conditioning class today. One hour's fun with a Swiss exercise ball. My favourite bit was rolling about on it like a floundering whale. My least favourite bit was lying back on the floor with my legs above my head, the ball gripped between my feet. Unfortunately, it didn't stay gripped for long and I got a ball in the face. Thankfully that was near the end of the class so I could skulk out and nurse my sore nose in private. But on the whole, a successful start to the week. Core conditioning is not something I enjoy or am particularly good at, which means I should probably do more of it. Might give the ball in the face a miss next week though.
So, end of my first week of proper training for the marathon. Thought it might be useful to review what my schedule (courtesy of Women's Running magazine) says I should have been doing compared with what I actually achieved.
Monday:Core conditioning class, yoga or Pilates - I did a couple of planks in my bedroom.
Tuesday:Recovery run 30 minutes - Ran for 40 minutes at good steady pace.
Wednesday: Threshold run 2 x 10 mins effort with 2 mins recovery jog between efforts - Ran up and down my street quite fast a couple of times.
Thursday:30 mins cross training or 30 mins recovery run + core conditioning - Did another couple of planks.
Friday:Rest - Did a 40-minute run, mainly steady, bit of sprinting.
Saturday:4 x 5 mins continuous hill repetitions. 2 min jog recovery - Read paper, drank tea, watched telly.
Sunday:Long run 90 mins relaxed pace - Ran for 15 minutes, stopped at leisure centre to add name to waiting list for Power Pump (after being thwarted yesterday, I thought I'd try again). Then ran for another 56.51 minutes: up and down Primrose Hill, around Regent's Park and back to said leisure centre where I had as much success today as I did yesterday when it came to getting into the exercise class. Walked home thwarted again.
So, you see I've had a brilliant week and completely stuck to the marathon training schedule (if you squint your mind). It's this kind of dogged determination that is sure to see me fly round Brighton in April!
(Today's stats (for the main run): 6.1 miles; 56.51 minutes; 9.19 minute/mile - it appears I'm a lot quicker when running round Regent's Park. And I saw three giraffes.)
Woke up this morning feeling like Munch's Scream. My face was sliding off and my head was banging. That scuppered my 9 am parkrun plans, but I was determined to make Power Pump at 11. Power Pump, despite its rather off-putting name, is a great exercise class for running. Its mix of strength, core work and cardio proves an excellent support to 'miles on your feet'. That's why, after poking down a cocktail of tea and Sudafed, I headed off to my local leisure centre for a good work-out. Unfortunately, it didn't quite work out like that. The class was full. Damn new year's resolutions. I asked if I could be added to the waiting list. "No, there are already nine people on the waiting list." I know when I'm beaten. So, instead of weight-lifting and squatting, I spent the morning in the cafe of the Hampstead Theatre, enjoying the sunshine, drinking yet more tea and reading the paper. A result, I think.
(Stats: Two cups of tea, one newspaper (Guardian), one magazine (Woman).)
(Pic: Soaking up the literary atmos at the Hampstead Theatre cafe.)
I've just spent an hour trying to avoid both. Running at 'home time' is not a good idea. Small people are darting about like frightened rats, plus shopkeepers (because I live in the 1960s) are putting out their rubbish for the evening collection. I only hope all that dodging and diving is intensifying my work-out.
That aside, it was a very good run and I think I might have even achieved some sort of running nirvana...
I was sprinting down West End Lane and turned a corner to run up a steepish incline. Bizarrely, instead of running out of steam on the slope, I zoomed up it. The front foot landing motion I'd perfected going down was now helping me veritably fly uphill. My feet hardly touched the ground and, at one point, I felt quite detached, as if my legs and body could happily keep up this pace for miles and miles...
And then I hit the wall. Or should I say, a wall... of small children. They had formed a Maginot Line across the pavement and my only choice was to stop. With that, the moment was gone. And I came crashing and wheezing back to reality.
But that doesn't matter. Because for a few short minutes, I glimpsed how it must be for the sainted Haile Gebrselassie. Perhaps the high intensity training I've been doing (okay, that I've done twice) is paying off. I have a day of sports planned for tomorrow and there will be no backing out. Especially not now I've experienced the kind of high I'd usually only associate with shopping.
This morning's lesson was flexibility. And I don't mean I spent it with my leg wrapped around my neck.
Last night, I laid out my P.E. kit ready for a nice little 7 am run today. This went right up the Swannee when I didn't wake up till 7.20. Now I didn't have enough time for my planned 45-minute outing before work.
After 10 minutes of fannying about, I decided to go anyway. My self-appointed marathon coach has been waxing lyrical about the benefits of sprint training. I would put this to the test.
For 15 minutes this morning, I ran up and down the road outside my house. One gentle jog, one proper sprint. It was quite a good distance for a 30-second dash. Enough that I certainly wanted to lie down and have a bit of a cry afterwards. I finished off the 'session' with a speedy lap of the nearby streets, even managing to bellow 'Good Morning' to a friend of mine preparing to open her lovely little coffee shop.
Who knows whether this will help much, but it has to be more beneficial than lying in bed watching breakfast TV. Surely?
(Stats: Not timed, but three sprints up and down the road, three gentle runs up and down the road, and one lap of my immediate neighbourhood.)
What a beautiful day! I was up and out running at 7 am this morning and it was positively balmy. So nice to feel warm while running. I've come to the conclusion that the ambient temperature, more than anything, has an impact on how well I perform. Not only are my muscles nice and flexible, but it also avoids the sinus pain problems I get in colder weather. On days like this, it feels like spring is just around the corner. Hang on, if spring is just around the corner, that means my marathon is just around the corner too - and I'm only on the second day of my training!!! Argghhh......
4.18 miles; 40.49 minutes; 9.45 minute/mile. Which goes to show that my 'sprinting' has in no way expedited my running. Oh well, let's play the long game and see how it goes.
It's not, it's the fifth. But in usual glacial fashion, it's taken me a while to get into the new year.
After approximately 18 hours' sleep, I leapt out of bed this morning, finally ready to face 2012.
Today my marathon training would begin properly. Again.
Step 1: A banana for breakfast. My physio friend has instructed me I must start running with something in my tum. It needs to get used to fuelling-up if I'm to do 26.2 miles comfortably. Or even, uncomfortably.
Step 2: Warm-up. This involved some half-hearted toe-touching and rolling my head about a bit. I'm sure my neck is getting shorter.
Step 3: Stopwatch. I've currently ditched Nike+ etc... It's just me and my trusty stopwatch, especially necessary as I intended to begin my high intensity work-out, which leads me to...
Step 4: Apologies to the residents of Haverstock Hill. If you thought you heard a sealion giving birth this morning, it was just me interval training. One minute jogging, one minute sprinting. That was the aim. The reality was 10 minutes of jogging, one minute of sprinting, fifteen minutes of wheezing and retching.
Step 5: Apologies also to my flatmate's mum. I didn't know she was in the kitchen and burst in post-run, sweating and red-faced like the ghost of Christmas past. I don't know who was more shocked. On the plus side, it raised both our heart rates to a nice healthy level.
Step 6: Core-work and foam roller warm-down. My physio friend has taken a special interest in my marathon training. She kindly gave me a foam roller for Christmas, which I can use to stretch out my muscles. She's also been beating into me (quite literally) the importance of intensive training over endurance. She's being ever so helpful. I suspect seeing me in pain is just a nice bonus.
So, all in all, a good hour of proper exercise and a lovely start to the new year. Better five days late than never, I say.
(Pic: My new foam roller. We'll be spending a lot of time together over the next few months.)
Thanks to Huey Morgan on 6Music for playing a selection of very good tunes to accompany my stretching and rolling, including this:
